The Aspen Meadow

Part two of our journey finds us continuing down the Gold Lake Highway and following the rough road out towards Frazier Falls. A careful fifteen to twenty minutes or so down that rocky road and through the pine you can discern the faint hint of something paler, sunnier, then the usual forests. It is one our favorite places to visit, with a sense of stillness and wonder that I've felt rarely in our sojourns.  

The Man disappeared to explore while I moved from angle to angle among the meadow, light slanting perfectly in some places, casting beautiful contrasting shadows on the tall grasses.

I've always had a love of birch and aspen, perhaps stemming from their rarity around where I grew up. I was fascinated by their white bark and bright display during Autumn, or the way sunlight shown through their leaves in Spring. The Man says something in me is inspired by them, because I've taken some of my best work while among them (there's a Lake Tahoe post I owe this blog that has some lovely images).

We were here for quiet some time, only the extreme wind and the trees. I noticed while taking pictures on the south side of the meadow that there was the occasional sound of metal, like dog tags, coming from behind me. But the sound was inconsistent and did not move nearer or farther away, so I decided to focus on my work, putting the mystery aside till it demanded more of my attention.

The Man returned and we discussed the noise, he investigated while I continued to take pictures, hands and nose beginning to resent being in the gathering shade and heightening winds. He found that trees had been marked with metal tags with numbers on them, I must assume for SCIENCE! Which is neat. 

The white you can see between the grass here was like brittle, delicate paper,, perhaps lying here undisturbed since the spring waters had dried in early summer. There are old owl boxes that don't look fit to inhabit here, but it still seems like an excellent place to owl watch nonetheless, especially considering the gopher mounds on the western end.

At this point my fingers were having a bit of trouble with the cold, but I ignored it, wanting to use the excellent lighting opportunities as a classroom of sorts, changing the settings on the camera constantly, trying to become proficient and efficient at using it quickly. And being able to assess a lighting situation and pick the optimal settings immediately. 

I love catching sunlight through trees or grass, or broken on water, and I have filters now that can diffuse light or saturate an image, which is excellent as my lenses tended to leave my pictures less then true to reality. Leaving me with a desire to edit just so the picture looked like it did when I was there.

So, no sightings of major wildlife this time around, but some beautiful shots that I am really proud of. As we descended back down into the valley, it began to rain in earnest, although the sun never stopped shining. So through sun-showers we passed alongside the Yuba River, mist rising from the road ahead of us, light dancing of the river beside and refracting through the raindrops till everything glowed. 

But alas, I was extremely carsick, and in no condition to appreciate or record it's beauty. We go back down to Bridgeport in the next post, for a short discussion on frogs and mid September swimming.